


Nana Schnee and the stranger

by Flexor



Category: RWBY
Genre: Growing, Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 18:11:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8543782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flexor/pseuds/Flexor
Summary: Weiss is back home, in the loving cold embrace of her family. She meets her grandmother in the hallway, and has a little chat.





	

"Weiss!"

Weiss Schnee shrank a little, recovered, then looked over her shouder. Someone had called her name, and of all the people she had dreaded to meet on returning home, Nana Schnee would probably one of her least favorite. Still, if being back at Schnee Manor had taught her one thing, it was that there's no avoiding family.

"Hello Nana," said Weiss, her face in a well-practiced quiet gentle smile.

"It's so good to see you back, poppet. Let me look at you." Nana Schnee, a woman aged about two hundred, looked up at Weiss' face. "Oh you look all pale and thin, dear. What have they been feeding you in Vale?"

Turkey. Fish. Water melons. Healthy fruit and vegetables. Shiny red apples. Grapes. Leeks. Bread. Oh the bread in Vale had been lovely, brown, with more kinds of seed in than she knew existed. Old mature hard cheese. Weiss had loved the food at Beacon. Except maybe the coffee.

"We'll just have to have Klein get you something proper, my dear. I'll never understand why they sent you there, but thank goodness you're back." 

 

Nobody, Nana. Nobody sent me there. I went there to get away from... all this.

Weiss looked round. Schnee Manor was large and cold. The decor was mostly white, with ice blue accents here and there. Fine art. Large _expensive_ sculptures that looked like they were carved out of ice. Paintings of people with cold expressions on bored faces. What a difference with her dorm at Beacon. Weiss smiled as she remembered how one autumn day, she'd come from the shower, damp and shivering in the cold hallway, hurrying to bed. Ruby, without any reservation, had dropped down from her own bed ( _Bunk_ beds!), got in with her as though it was the most normal thing in the world, and wrapped her arms round her 'To warm her up.' There had been soft giggles from the other side of the room, and a whole slew of paniced feelings. Ruby didn't know then that Weiss liked girls, mostly. But then again, Weiss was quite certain that Ruby would have done exactly the same thing if she had known. Weiss had grumbled at Ruby a bit about personal space, which Ruby had ignored completely, and then settled down, accepting the simple gift of body heat as it was given.

Weiss had never felt so warm in her whole life. 

 

"They did have running water and proper toilets there didn't they?"

"Yes Nana," said Weiss.

She ought to know. She'd cleaned them. Without even a pair of gloves, and an itch in her nose that she really _really_ did not want to scratch just now. _Cleaned_ them, when here in this sterile world, toilets were always clean, kept clean by a team of dedicated servants who took the sharp edges and the filth off the world. There had been no servants at Beacon, a harsh lesson for a spoilt little princess. But she'd overcome her disgust, like she'd overcome her fear of Grimm and other enemies, and cleaned the stupid toilets. At Beacon, through lessons, and through living with her new friends, she had overcome that most difficult of enemies and imposed a discipline of will on her. She had overcome herself. 

 

"Oh. And I do hope they were civilised enough to keep those filthy beasts away from you?"

Weiss took a breath. Filthy beasts. Good enough to work in Dust mines, but you wouldn't want them in your house. You never knew what they were thinking. Nothing good, for sure. They'd been taught what happened if they tried anything, but you could tell just by looking at them. Any of them would kill a Human the first chance they'd get. Or worse. They have urges. Instincts. Can't help it really. They were born depraved, and have to be taught with a firm hand.

Weiss thought of Blake, her brave, capable, trusted friend, and boiled inside. But she couldn't complain about Nana. She had thought, _believed_ those very thoughts herself. Nana had never even met a Faunus. She had never been concentrated fully on putting glyphs and ice walls up for her friends, only to hear a dull thud behind her and looked to see one of her opponents flying through the battle ground, and Blake Belladonna smiling at her with her pale yellow eyes, letting her know that she had her back.

Weiss bit back her tears, and forced herself to smile.

"Of course, Nana."

Nana reached up and pinched Weiss' cheek. "Well, I have to go now, but when you have a moment, do come and have a cup of tea. I'll have Klein bring something nice. Maybe we'll invite your mother too. A cup of tea would do her good. For a change."

"That would be lovely, Nana."

"That's my granddaughter. So good to have you home again. Don't be a stranger now." 

 

Nana shuffled off, and Weiss looked after her.

It was too late. The Weiss that had crept out of this Manor carrying only the most essential twenty-five cases of important stuff, twenty of which she'd never opened, was simply gone. Weiss laughed quietly. Good riddance. Little twerp. One of Yang's words, that. It wasn't even a real word.

There _were_ things about Weiss-before that she still liked, things to be cherished, preserved. But she had changed. Grown, hopefully, but definitely changed.

Weiss took a deep breath, and made for the music room. Time to practice, and show the world what a pretty little doll she was. She could do it. It was an assignment like any other she'd been given. Weiss would sing, and she would be _good_.

Don't be a stranger.

Sorry, Nana. But that's what I am.

I _am_ a stranger. 


End file.
